Truth is a Whisper
by Farewell
Summary: Prequel of sorts to "Crucifixion." I finally got it up! Mainly a "When Elrohir met Arryn." Very sweet (or will be) and not nearly as dark as the other one. Hopefully. Other possible pairings are Elrond/Glorfindel. We'll have to see.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Truth is a Whisper

Author: Farewell

Rating: R

Warnings: slash. Elrohir / Arryn, mainly. Others possibly.

Notes: Prequel to "Crucifixion". You don't have to read that first; as this is supposed to be a "prequel".  This is a "How Elrohir met Arryn" and a bit about my dear redhead himself. Poor little guy.

Standard Disclaimer: LOTR characters / places / whatever, aren't mine.  Arryn is. (Not that he's too pleased with it.)

*~*~*

The slow haunting melody slid through the leaves of the forest, meeting Arryn's pointed ears and wrapping around his heart. 

The notes drew him forward unconsciously, pulling him beneath the boughs of the trees, searching for the player. The melody changed suddenly, from a mournful dirge to a quick lively piping that pulled and tugged until Arryn was running full tilt through the trees, looking almost frantically for the musician. His blood pounded in his temples, breath surging in and out, his heart beating with his rapid footsteps. The music sped up until the elf could barely keep up with its tempo—and then ceased suddenly, the last high note quivering in the air.

Arryn slowed to a walk and crept forward, searching for the player. The melody began again, slow, reverent and full of sliding grace. The elf was put in mind of a great eagle he had seen once, circling the sun in great loops, winging higher and higher among the cliff faces.

Catching a movement in the trees ahead, he slipped like a wraith towards it. Arryn crouched down; still listening to the music, and slowly drew back a bough to see who or what was there. His breath caught in his throat—it was an elf, dancing to the music. Arryn held his breath as the elf raised his arms and swayed to the pipe, spinning slowly and gracefully. The dancer had long dark hair, swinging well past his knees, slim braids nestled in the loose tresses, held by silver clasps.

The dancer froze completely for an instant and completed his twirl, now with a dagger in magically in his hand. "Who is there?" he demanded in Elvish. "Show yourself!" He commanded imperiously. 

Arryn whipped away and bolted from the underbrush. He had gotten no farther than ten yards before a great weight fell on him and pinned him to the ground. Arryn struggled for a moment until he felt the cold prick of the dagger at his pulse point.  The thing on his back leaned down and spoke in his ear. "Who are you? Why were you watching me?" The voice was low and demanding.

"Please," Arryn gasped. "Please, I meant no harm! I meant no harm! I heard music, and followed the sound! I meant no harm!"

The mysterious elf raised himself up a bit, placing his knees on either side of Arryn's body; he flipped the other onto his back, studying the one beneath him, knife still at his throat. "I have never seen you before. How long have you been in Imladris?" 

"I- I did not know I was in Imladris. My family and I were prisoners and I managed to escape into this forest. I have been living here for days."

His eyes narrowed. "Who took your family?"

"A group of Men." Arryn was very aware of the knife still touching his skin.

The other leaned back, sheathing his knife. "I suppose that you are not about to take over my home. What is your name?" He remained sitting comfortably on Arryn's legs.

"Ah--" Arryn was a little flustered by the elf.  "Arryn, my Lord. My name is Arryn."

"I am Elrohir." He looked up at the sky through the leaves. "It is getting late; will you come to my house with me?"

"Y- yes sir," Arryn stuttered.

Elrohir rose to his feet and pulled Arryn up to face him. "Then let us fetch Mithrandir, and we shall be off."

"Who is Mithrandir, Lord?"

Elrohir smiled. "He is your mysterious piper. He was playing for me."

"No need to fetch him; he has fetched himself," a gruff voice behind them said. "And I brought your shirt, Elrohir, lest your Father fret and not let you out of the house again." 

Arryn whipped around to see a grizzled old man cloaked in gray come lumbering out of the brush, leaning heavily on a staff taller than his head. Arryn was amazed that he hadn't heard him sooner.

"Thank you, Mithrandir," Elrohir replied dutifully, winking as Arryn looked back at him; their gazes catching and holding.

"If you two have both finished staring at each other!" Came the old man's annoyed comment. As they snapped their heads around to him, he sighed. "Shall we depart?"

"My apologies, my Lord," Arryn looked at the ground.

"Bah!" the old man waved it away. "I know how it is between two elves." His eyes twinkled at the twin blushes.

Elrohir cleared his throat and whistled sharply; horses could be heard galloping towards them. Arryn shifted nervously as Elrohir pulled his shirt back on. Two horses burst into the clearing, bolting beautifully side by side. Arryn stepped back instinctively, behind Elrohir a bit. He had never been very comfortable around horses. //Will they not stop?// he thought, alarmed. Just before the beasts would overrun them, Elrohir held up a hand, and they skidded to a halt. The dark haired elf looked behind him at Arryn, smiling and taking his hand. 

He drew the nervous elf forward. "Have you never been near a horse before?" he asked, clearly amused. 

"Of course I have!" Arryn said defensively. "But it – er – did not like me."

Elrohir laughed lightly. "She will like you, I promise."

Mithrandir mounted his horse swiftly, waiting while Elrohir lifted the smaller Arryn to perch precariously on the horse's back. Elrohir swung up behind him, wrapping a firm arm around the other's middle. They rode quickly to the City, Arryn holding on tightly as the mare threw in a good-humored buck.  "Oh!" 

Elrohir laughed. "You awful beast!" he chided. "Do not scare him more!"

The horse whinnied a laugh, but continued on to the City without further mishaps. As the three rode through the city, elves going about their business on the streets waved and called out greetings. Mithrandir and Elrohir seemed to be well liked. Soon a great house stood in sight, and Arryn couldn't help but gasp at its splendor; even from far away, he could see that the house was a magnificent one, like the castles in stories his mother used to tell him. 

"What is that place?" he asked, awed.

"The Last Homely House," Elrohir replied over his shoulder. "Or, as I like to call it, Home."

Arryn gaped. "You live there? Are you a king?" He belatedly wondered if he should bow, or kneel; however he had no idea how to do either while on a horse.

"No. However, my father is the ruler of this Valley, so I suppose I am a prince." Elrohir said this offhandedly, as if it was of no matter at all. Arryn made a quiet sound deep in his throat, and Elrohir twisted around to face him. "Oh don't be like that! We were getting along so nicely! I hate all this formality."

Mithrandir spoke in his gruff, humor-filled voice. "He does, too. Horrible beast, he is."

Taking pity on Arryn's lost look, Elrohir smiled. "If we are all equal in the eyes of the Valar, why can we not be equal in each other's eyes?"

"I suppose..." Arryn spoke quietly, feeling very overwhelmed. Elrohir was a strange elf, and no mistake.

As they approached the house, the first thing Arryn noticed was the smell of water—there was water coming from every conceivable place. Waterfalls, streams, brooks—some leading to the house, some away, some seeming to disappear entirely into the ground. With awe, he watched the elves around him, going about their tasks, two of them coming out to hold their horses. He noticed a dark-haired elf stepping down the stairs to greet them. 

"Who is that?" he whispered to Elrohir.

He looked around. "My father, Elrond."

Elrond stepped up to their horse. "Elrohir," he said warmly. "Did you have a good day?" He paused for a moment, looking solemnly at the redhead. "Who is your friend?"

Elrohir dismounted smoothly, and helped Arryn down. "This is Arryn. I found him in the woods." Arryn felt slightly intimidated by the powerful lord—well, he assumed he was powerful; anyone who was the Master of such a valley must be.  The stern gaze pinned him where he stood, and for the life of him he could not speak. He wondered if he should bow, or kneel, but he remembered what Elrohir said about such behavior, and hesitantly kept his feet.

Elrohir looked at the two elves, feeling the discomfort. He smiled cheekily, trying to ease the tension. "Can I keep him, Ada? Can I?"

Elrond broke Arryn's gaze, and glared at his son, making an exasperated noise in his throat, and turned back to Arryn. "Welcome to Imladris. Ignore the beast beside you." The eyes turned piercing. "I have never seen you before. Why are you in my Valley?"

Elrohir answered for Arryn, who stood there tongue-tied. "His family was captured by a group of Men. I thought that we might be able to help him, or at least give him a place to stay for a while." He looked hopefully at his father. 

Elrond sighed, "I suppose, you will have to find him a guest room. And Arryn, would you join us for our evening meal?" 

Arryn nodded his head vigorously, trying to get on the Lord's good side. "Certainly, my Lord," he managed. "I would love to."

Elrond waved them away, speaking only once more. "Elladan is back. He will be joining us at supper as well."

"He is home?!"  Elrohir looked overjoyed. Arryn felt a slight twinge of regret. //This Elladan is probably Elrohir's lover.//  Elrohir immediately turned back to the lost-looking redhead. "Come with me. I must put my mare away."

As they headed toward a large building, Arryn couldn't keep from glancing back at the Lord still standing on the steps. He couldn't help but feel the cold glare of suspicion that Elrond sent his way.

*~*~*

TBC... did you like it? please click the review button just down here if you did. Or even if you didn't! virtual cookies to everyone who does...


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Truth is a Whisper

Author: Farewell

Rating: R

Warnings: slash. Elrohir / Arryn, mainly. Others possibly.

Notes: Prequel to "Crucifixion". You don't have to read that first; as this is supposed to be a "prequel".  This is a "How Elrohir met Arryn" and a bit about my dear redhead himself. Poor little guy.

Standard Disclaimer: LOTR characters / places / whatever, aren't mine.  Arryn is. (Not that he's too pleased with it.)

Here it comes, ladies and gents: Chapter Two! Let me know what you think.

*~*~*

Feeling incredibly out of place, Arryn followed Elrohir into the stables. As soon as they entered, the horses began calling out to their elf-friend, whinnying and nickering and snorting their pleasure. Arryn smiled as Elrohir walked among the beautiful beasts, rubbing a nose, an ear, whatever the horse liked best; he seemed to know.  Arryn looked about in wonder at the many horses; so many colors! He jumped as a soft nose was thrust against his chest by a small coppery horse. The horse snorted in surprise at his sudden movement, and jumped back as well, but was soon cautiously extending its head back to see who Arryn was.

Arryn jumped again as Elrohir stepped up behind him. "That is Nattie. She is my horse's sister." 

"Nattie? It seems such a small name for such a horse," Arryn was carefully stroking the velvet nose.

"Well, she is a small horse. Truly, she is so small that only the children could ride her; she is far too little to carry a fully armored elf." Elrohir watched Arryn carefully, he well knew that Nattie was a spirited beast, and was only unridden because she wished it so.

"Do children ride her then? She is very sweet; I think she would be well suited to the task of teaching children." Arryn grew brave and stepped close to the door; Nattie put her head down as far as the board would allow and rubbed against him.

Elrohir made a non-committal reply, and took Arryn's arm. "Come, I have settled my mare, let us away to the house—we must get you cleaned up for dinner!" 

With a last, longing look at Nattie, Arryn allowed himself to be dragged away to the house. 

*~*~*

Elrohir showed him quickly to his room, and left him there to bathe and change. Arryn wandered about the vast room in silent awe; he curiously went through an open door and found himself in a luxurious bathroom. Carefully, he stepped onto the wooden floorboards towards the bath. The tub was large and full of hot water; Arryn could smell something sweet, which he discovered was soap. Stripping slowly, Arryn looked around. There was a closed door across the room, which he supposed was to an adjoining bedroom. There were high windows, curtained with lace, and low wooden benches decorated the wall. 

Suddenly, Arryn felt extremely uncomfortable in his nakedness. He stepped forward and slid into the water, looking around cautiously over the lip of the pool. He could see no one and chided himself for being silly, and began his bath.

The hot water felt wonderful on his body—he rubbed with the scented soap until his skin was flushed red. Dunking under the water, he ran his fingers through his hair, enjoying the slight pull on his scalp. He washed his long hair twice, and dunked under once more before climbing out of the tub. Arryn looked around for a towel of some kind, but could not find one. He shrugged, and had begun to wring out his hair when the door opened; he turned, his hair draped over his shoulder. 

Elrohir stepped in, carrying an armload of cloth. He stopped short at the sight of the —very naked—redhead. Blushing furiously, he dropped the cloths to a bench, staring at the ground. "I brought you some clothes," he mumbled, and fled from the room.

Arryn smiled at the dark haired elf's discomfort, but crossed to the bench. Digging through the pile of cloth, he selected a towel and dried himself. He folded the towel and replaced it on the bench, forgetting his dripping hair as he drew a dark green robe to his body. Marveling at the delicate embroidery, he put it back on the bench, and took back the towel, scrubbing his hair viciously to dry it. Folding and replacing the towel a final time, he finger-combed his long red hair, and hastily braided it.

There was a knock at the door just as Arryn was slipping on the magnificent robe. At his call, the door half-opened, and Elrohir spoke, hiding behind the door. "Are you ready?"

Arryn laughed. "Yes, I am ready. I am sorry I took so long."

Elrohir smiled and entered fully. "Not a problem. Will you join us for dinner?"

The redhead did up the last button and stepped up to the other elf. "Certainly," he smiled back, and then looked down. "This is such a fine garment. I feel foolish."

Elrohir took his hands. "You look lovely."

Arryn blushed, but glanced at the other. "What is I spill something?"

"Oh well," he shrugged. "'Tis no matter."

Arryn shook his head. "You are strange to me."

Elrohir took his arm and guided him out of the room and down the hall. "_You _are strange to_ me._"

*~*~*

            They entered a large, decorative dining hall, and joined Elrond, and two other unknown elves.  Elrohir introduced them as Glorfindel, a tall blonde, and Elladan. With a jolt, Arryn realized that Elrohir and Elladan were twins; he felt a strange relief. //I suppose that Elladan is _not_ Elrohir's lover, then.//

He was seated beside Elladan, but across from Elrohir. Arryn watched with wide eyes as a plate of food was placed before him; he could not recognize any of the food, but the others seemed to enjoy it. Cautiously, he picked up his fork and speared a random piece, and chewed it carefully. He was pleased to discover that it was very good; he could taste a light spice that he recognized but could not name. 

The five elves ate all but silently, punctuated only by Elrond's few questions to Glorfindel about border patrols. Only once they were finished, and the servants had borne away their plates, did Elrond begin asking Arryn questions.

Leaning back in his chair, he fixed the redheaded elf with a hard glare. "My son tells me that you were captured by Men. Where?"

"I—I am not sure." Arryn looked away, unable to keep eye contact with the intimidating lord.

Elladan looked at him sharply. "How can you be unsure? Do you not remember?"

Arryn's braid fell over his shoulder as he whipped his head around to look at Elladan. He met the curious, intense gaze and couldn't hold it. Looking down in his lap, he noticed that he had taken hold of his long braid and was twisting it anxiously. He tried to speak, but couldn't—he could not get his voice to work. Desperately, he glanced around the table—Elrond, Glorfindel, Elrohir, Elladan—they were all looking at him expectantly. 

He looked down again and tried to get his throat to work—but he couldn't, and finally Elrohir saved him. With a glare at his family, he stood up and came around the table, resting his hands on the struggling redhead's shoulders. "Come Arryn—join me for a walk in the gardens."

Grateful for the escape, he scrambled up and followed behind the dark-haired elf. They exited the dining hall, and quickly found an archway that lead to the gardens. Elrohir paused and took Arryn's hand. "Are you alright?"

The redhead looked down in shame. "I am fine. I do not know why I —"

Elrohir interrupted. "My father was trying to intimidate you; that is his way. Do not let it bother you."

Arryn nodded and whispered. "He is frightening."

The other shrugged. "Only until you know him; truly he is very kind."

Arryn looked around, not answering.

"Oh, hey..." Elrohir pulled him close and draped his arm over the smaller elf's shoulders companionably. "Cheer up. 'Tis not the end of Middle-Earth, aye?"

"How can they—how can _you_ trust me? You do not even know me!" Arryn pulled away, feeling miserable.

"They will trust you because I trust you. I am never wrong about people." Elrohir looked at him, smiling lazily. He changed the subject. "Shall we stop by the stables? I wish to check on my mare." He grinned when Arryn's eyes brightened. 

They crossed the courtyard and entered the dark building, Elrohir moving through the darkness with practiced ease, Arryn following in his footsteps. They cracked the door open and slipped in; Arryn made a beeline for his friend Nattie. Elrohir fetched a brush and held it out to him. Confused, Arryn took it. "What is this for?"

Elrohir opened the stall door and gently pushed Arryn in. "Brush her coat—she will enjoy it."

Arryn stumbled, and hesitantly touched the mare's side. She immediately stilled, and heaved a sigh. Smiling a bit, the redhead stroked the shimmering coat. So involved was he that he didn't notice Elrohir slip out of the stable, and return a few minutes later with his twin.

The two elves watched in fascination as the normally-vicious mare rocked in pleasure from the firm brush strokes.

"That is amazing!" Elladan stepped forward before Elrohir could stop him. He opened the door, talking all the time. "How did you make her so calm? She would have killed most people before she let them half as close as you—" Elladan cut off as the mare whipped around and kicked out. The solid sound of her hooves hitting the wall was deafening. Arryn grabbed the horse's face in his hands, looking at her in outrage. "Hey! That's not nice!" She huffed, but lowered her head in submission.

Arryn stepped out of the stall and helped Elrohir lift Elladan to his feet. He had flung himself down when Nattie kicked. "Are you alight?" Arryn asked. "Did she hurt you?"

Elladan stood. "No. She missed me—we're _all_ used to dodging Nattie's hooves." He turned an angry glare on his twin. "But you Elrohir! You allowed him near her? You left him_ alone_ with her? How could you, Brother?"

Elrohir straightened. "Did you not see them? Nattie took to him—she has _never_ let even Glorfindel near her!"

"Exactly!" Elladan bellowed. "This horse is _dangerous!_"

"Not to him!" Elrohir returned vehemently.

Arryn had paled at the yelling voices, saying quietly, "Please, don't fight. Please— stop—" The horses were getting anxious at the yelling; Nattie was lunging forward viciously in her stall, trying to get at them, which only fueled Elladan's argument.

Arryn backed away from the two brothers, and slipped out the door. He stood outside, shaking in the cool air, and then slid down the wall in misery. He didn't know exactly what the twins were fighting about, but he knew that he was the cause.

Arryn was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Lord Elrond until the elf had burst through the door and was physically restraining his sons. "_What_ are you doing?" Could be heard from inside.

Elladan spoke first. "Elrohir left Arryn alone with Nattie!"

Elrohir cut him off. "Nattie likes him! She was nuzzling him—she let him groom her! He was safe."

The lord sighed. "Are you sure?" Elrohir must have nodded for Elrond continued. "Then go out and see him. He is waiting outside, and looking rather distressed."

An instant later, Elrohir's head popped out the door; he came over and sat beside the redhead. "Are you alight?" he whispered.

Arryn stared ahead, unseeing. "Do you always fight so?"

The elf shrugged. "Sometimes."

"I am sorry to have been the cause," he whispered.

Elrohir put his hand on his shoulder, looking at his fully. "You were not the cause! Elladan was merely worried—he has been trying to get near Nattie since the day she was born. He knows her only as dangerous. He was just worried. Please don't be upset."

Elrond stepped outside the door. "Elladan tells me that you were grooming Nattie." Arryn nodded, looking confused. "Show me."

Elrohir bounced to his feet and helped Arryn up, then ushered him into the stable. When Nattie saw the redhead enter, she nickered and stretched her head over the door to him. He came close to her, rubbing her forehead, not looking at the others.

"See?" Elrohir crowed. "I told you Elladan!"

Elrond put a hand on each of his sons' shoulders, looking concernedly at Arryn's hidden face. "I believe it is time to retire. Elrohir, take Arryn to his rooms. I shall see you all at the morning meal." This was undoubtedly a command. Elrohir took Arryn's hand and pulled him away from the horse. The redhead patted her neck once more and followed the other elf out the door, and up to the House.

*~*~*

and so ends part two. did you like it? hate it? completely indifferent? please review and tell me about it!


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER:   we all know that it's not mine, why try to hide it?

*~*~*

Arryn opened his eyes in the middle of the night, completely calm. He had been fast asleep, and suddenly, in the process of opening his eyes, he was entirely awake. Breathing deeply, he turned his head to the right, and saw a dark figure in the chair across from his bed. The figure was leaning its head on its hand, and with the redhead's movement, shifted hands. Arryn could only stare, curious, but not afraid. 

The figure spoke. "You are a very curious creature, Arryn." 

He sat up slowly. "Why?" He made no move to light a candle or to try to see his visitor. 

"You are Elven-kind, yet you carry yourself like a Man. You should not feel the cold, yet you shiver. You sleep with the awareness of an elf, yet you sleep with your eyes closed."

Arryn raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Sleep with my eyes closed? Does not everyone?"

"No. Elves sleep with their eyes open. I find it very curious indeed that you do not. It is unsettling, and it makes me doubt you." The figure stood and came close; Arryn could make out dark features and not much else. "Do not make me doubt you, boy." He stalked from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Arryn curled up, shaking from nerves. He had thought that he would be safe in Imladris— despite the chilly welcome its lord offered him. He lay back down, and dragged the covers up to his chin, closing his eyes resolutely. He summoned up an image of his family: Mother, Father, Sister. They were all dark-haired; he was the only fair one in at least three generations, from either side of the family. He smiled a bit, trying to get his sister to move, trying to remember how she had walked, how she would turn her head, how she would smile. The image was superimposed with one of Elrohir, and that lazy smile from earlier that night in the garden.  He did not sleep more, but looked at all the pictures inside his mind, over and over again.

*~*~*

Elladan entered the room at Elrohir's welcome and sprawled himself on the bed.

"Make yourself at home, brother," Elrohir said dryly.

"I always do, brother," came the lazy reply.

Elrohir snorted and returned to his perusal of the courtyard outside his balcony.

"Close your mouth, Elrohir, lest your tongue loll out," Elladan teased gently. "HE is sure to notice if you keep staring as you do."

Elrohir whipped around guiltily. "Do you think he has noticed?"

"He would have to be blind not to." Elladan came up behind him and hugged his twin. "But, apparently, he is indeed blind. Father is not however, and he may disapprove. You know he is still suspicious of Arryn," he cautioned.

"What about yourself?"

"I like him. I feel sorry for him because Ada has decided he is untrustworthy. I do not understand why he cannot speak to Father. That is why Ada distrusts him."

"I know, and it distresses me. Ada scares him, and I do not know how to help him through this fear. It makes me wonder what might have happened in his past to cause this fear. Or maybe it is just that Ada is trying to intimidate him; Arryn is so closed-mouth about his past, he will not even tell me about it." Elrohir sighed, dejected. Silently, they watched Arryn and Glorfindel step out of the House to head towards the garden paths.

"And what of your heart, Elrohir? What does that say about the little redhead?" Elladan was careful not to look at his brother.

"He is very beautiful," Elrohir whispered, and then suddenly stared at him. "Do you fancy him?"

Elladan laughed. "No, I prefer the fairer sex. You are welcome to court Arryn. In fact, you have my blessings—perhaps you will stop moping about him now. Ada, however, will be another matter entirely."

"I believe that Father will come around." Elrohir caught his breath when Arryn looked up from the garden, meeting his eyes. Glorfindel shaded his gaze and followed the redhead's look, and waved at the twins. Elrohir managed a smile and a small wave back.

Elladan poked his twin's side. "Go to him already."

With great dignity, Elrohir swatted the offending hands away, glaring at him, and left the room, ignoring his brother's laughter.

Elladan stood at the balcony wall, watching until Elrohir stepped up to the redhead. Glorfindel tactfully took his leave, retreating into the house, no doubt about to inform his Lord of the new complications with the mysterious redhead and the young lord. Elrohir did not so much as wave a farewell, before taking Arryn's hand and vanishing with his into the garden.

Elladan smiled, and left the room to find his father and break the news before Glorfindel did.

*~*~*

Arryn followed Elrohir unquestioningly, winding their way through twisting garden paths. A great bush—tree, really, it was so large— covered with large globes of bright red flowers was nestled in the middle of the path. Arryn stopped short and stared at it in wonder. "It is beautiful," he murmured. "What kind of plant is it?"

"I do not know. But it is beautiful. I used to play here when I was little." Elrohir smiled at Arryn's open-mouthed wonderment, and took his hand, pulling him close to the tree. "Come on." The twin lifted up a branch gently and pushed Arryn into the cavern of leaves.

They entered the hollow of the tree, standing close to the trunk. Laughing, the redhead stretched his arms above his head and spun around. "I cannot even touch the top! This is amazing, Elrohir."

"I am glad you like it. I always came here when I was scared—I always felt safe here among these low boughs." The elf settled against the big trunk.

Arryn looked at him, slowly dropping his arms to his sides. "Are you scared now?"

Elrohir smiled. "No. I just wanted to show you. I knew you would appreciate it. Elladan is hopeless for things like this."

The redhead smiled, an odd light in his eyes. He came closer, never looking away from the other. Elrohir felt unaccountably nervous looking into his dark eyes. Leaning back against the trunk, he held his breath. Is he going to kiss me? he wondered wildly.

"Will you tell me if you are scared again, Elrohir?" Arryn was almost touching him now.

"Yes..." he whispered.

"Good," Arryn was impossibly close, and then their lips touched.

Elrohir smiled. "Very good."

_"Elrohir!"_

*~*~*

what did you think? let me know?


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER:  we all know it's not mine, so why hide it?

*~*~*

They wrenched apart, startled badly as Elrond stepped into view, his face dark as a storm cloud.  "Elrohir, get up to the House," he ordered. 

His son stepped in front of Arryn. "Ada," he began.

"Now!" the lord barked. Elrohir looked over his shoulder at Arryn, his eyes worried.

"Go Elrohir. I will be alright." Arryn was looking at the lord with dread in his eyes, but held a steely posture. Elrohir paused, unsure still.

"Go home, Elrohir." Elrond ordered.  With a last, apologetic look over his shoulder at Arryn, the half-elf fled.

Elrond advanced on Arryn, backing him up against the tree trunk. "Who are you?" He asked fiercely. 

Arryn shook at the force of the elf-lord's glare. "What do you mean?" He spoke slowly, trying to keep his voice steady.

Elrond grabbed his collar. "Do not lie to me."

Arryn dropped his eyes. "I am but a slave, my lord, a slave to the men who own me. I ran away from them after I watched them kill my father, torture my mother, and rape my sister." Arryn's voice was low and hard. "I am a slave; I have been a slave all my life, for *whatever* they wished me to do."  Arryn seemed to cave in upon himself, his anger draining away as quickly as it came. "And now that you know this, Lord, I shall be on my way."

But Elrond did not let him go. "Does my son know this?"

The redhead looked horrified. "No, Lord. I could never tell him that... what would he think of me?" He asked, distressed. 

The great lord released him, feeling pity for the elf. "He would think less of you if you did not tell him, and he discovered it later."

Arryn nodded, eyes on the ground, still using the tree to support him. 

Elrond watched him, eyes softening as he realized how truly afraid the other was of him. "Is that why you fear me? Because I am a lord?"

Arryn didn't answer, but it was enough for Elrond. "Elrohir is a lord as well, you know. A Prince."

The other nodded, whispering, "I know."

Elrond arched an eyebrow. "And he does not frighten you."

"He was kind to me." The whisper was barely heard, even to his keen elven hearing.

Elrond heard a mysterious cough coming from behind him, but didn't turn. "I haven't been particularly kind to you, have I?" He ground out.

Arryn audibly swallowed, oblivious to the previous cough. "You have been very kind to me, my lord, more than I ever thought."

"Oh certainly. Coming into your rooms in the middle of the night, threatening you, throwing you up against trees?"

The redhead looked thoroughly miserable, and Elrond took pity on him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You have lived with Men all your life, then? Is that why you are so like a Man? Why you sleep with your eyes closed?"

Arryn nodded, still looking at the ground. "Yes, lord."

"Arryn." He looked up, and Elrond caught his gaze. "That is not your real name, is it?"

The younger elf shook his head. "But it is now, my lord. I despised my slave name."

The other nodded. "I will respect that. Arryn, will you return to the Manor with me?"

Arryn looked up, surprised. "You are not going to send me away?"

Elrond smiled. "No. I judged you too harshly, I believe. I can see that my son is falling for you; and I can also see why. You are a good man, I think, and I am deeply sorry that I was... less than cordial when we first met."

Arryn's head was spinning from the change, and he looked dazedly around him. Elrond took his hand, and pulled him upright. "You had best go back home and prove to my son that I did not have you murdered and left in the woods."

The lord watched the younger elf flee from the cavern, and relaxed against the tree trunk. "You can stop laughing, Glorfindel."

There blonde elf dropped to the ground in front of him. "Did you really have so scare the poor boy so badly? He will be avoiding you like the plague now." He waited for some reaction from the lord, but was disappointed when he received none. He continued, shaking his finger at the dark-haired elf. "I *told* you. Arryn is not out to corrupt your son. If anything, *he* will be corrupted by *Elrohir.*"

Elrond sighed, resting his head on his lover's shoulder. "You need not remind me."

Glorfindel just laughed, and wrapped his arms around the other, and pulled them both to the forest floor. 

The tree seemed to laugh with them, shaking its great boughs and showering them with blossoms.

***

Elrohir met Arryn at the door, a relieved smile on his face. "Are you alright?"

Arryn nodded, smiling back. "Aye. Lord Elrond is even allowing me to stay."

Elrohir laughed, and hugged him. "I'm so glad."

Arryn held on to him, enjoying the embrace, but he couldn't help the shred of nervousness that went through him at the thought of what he had to tell the half-elf.

*~*~*

What did you think? please do let me know. More to come soon. (I hope.)


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